


flu season

by sugoiberry



Category: Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann
Genre: M/M, i guess sorta unrequited, it’s a dumb title if you think of a new one you win all my love, it’s been years and I’ve forgotten how to do this, recommend me tags in the comments, rossiu force feeds simon’s flu-y ass some soup, that’s about it, these two should probably talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:51:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugoiberry/pseuds/sugoiberry
Summary: Prompt #1: “Ok, we'll start simple. Simon gets sick so Rossiu has to take care of him.”CONTEXT: A dear friend gave me this prompt years ago on Tumblr when I was drowning in rarepair hell, so here it is, like...4 years overdue lmao. ENJOY.





	flu season

“Simon.”

The pile of blankets shifted slightly, but there was no response. Rossiu sighed. He was going to assume that the motion meant his friend was still alive somewhere under the mounds of fabric and turned back to watch the ceramic bowl slowly spin in the sickly yellow light of the microwave. 

A pitiful, nasally whine from the bed was almost drowned out by the obnoxious beeping of the microwave. Rossiu grabbed some paper towels to wrap around the edges of the bowl so it wouldn’t burn his hands and walked over to the bunk, nudging the colorful, Simon-shaped lump with his knee. 

The blankets wiggled again before the gundam design on the comforter crumpled and folded in on itself and a hand reached out, waving blindly about for the bowl. Rossiu tisked.

“Absolutely not,” he said, and the hand was replaced by glaring eyes where the face of the mecha once was. “Sit up. I’m not having a repeat of the hot chocolate incident.”

With a petulant groan and a drawn out snort as he tried and failed to keep his nose from running, Simon sat up, the blanket dragging down his head to fall to his shoulders, his hair a static halo of blue. Rossiu’s face scrunched in distaste at the noise, but at least Simon was upright and could be (relatively) trusted with scalding hot chicken noodle soup. He placed the bowl on the side table and grabbed the box of tissues. Two quick jerks of his wrist had him a square of tissue, which were then pressed to Simon’s nose.

Simon squawked and flailed, but his arms were still encased in his blankets and he was helpless as Rossiu pinched his nostrils. 

“Blow,” Rossiu said sternly.

“’es, _Mom_ ,” Or at least that’s what Simon tried to say but it comes out sounding more like “bomb” than anything, so he rolls his eyes instead and complies. 

“Seriously, though, that was a bit much,” Simon mumbled, leaning to the side to grab the soup off the side table, the drape of covers coming with him on his shoulders like a cape. He watched as Rossiu stepped on the pedal of the trash can to open the lid, and scoops a heaping spoonful of soup into his mouth. 

“It comes naturally after growing up with my foster siblings,” Rossiu said with a shrug, tossing the tissue and then turning to the sink to wash his hands. “Gimmy and Darry only just turned seven. I’ve changed enough diapers and wiped enough noses, it’s not a big deal.” He finished wiping his hands on the dishtowel and turned back to lean against the counter, using a quick shake of his head and a huff of air to get his hair out of his eye. He always had such trouble getting that one forelock to stay pulled back in his ponytail.

Simon hummed around a mouthful before swallowing. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Rossiu crossed his arms, tapping his fingers on his elbow and watching his roommate eat. Three years of college and he and Simon had stayed rooming together. They had been thrown together at random their freshman year and it had worked out, so they decided it was best to stick together than risk another stranger. Despite the disaster that was spring semester of sophomore year. Simon’s girlfriend, Nia, had been...a bit more of handful than initially anticipated and he and Simon had practically come to blows. It was like any little thing could set off an explosive argument between them that semester, and they had eventually spent most of the semester out of the room. Simon would stay over at Nia’s and Rossiu would sleep at Kinon and Kimbley’s apartment in turns.

And then Nia had transferred, Rossiu had felt like a colossal dick about how he had acted, and things, surprisingly, went back to normal. Well, disregarding Simon punching him the face right before last summer break. But water under the bridge and all that.

Simon was saying something to him and Rossiu refocused with a blink.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Thanks,” Simon said, glancing up sheepishly through his bangs. “For taking care of me and all. Don’t know what I’d do without you, Rossiu,” he grinned, and Rossiu’s chest clenched.

Oh, yeah. That. The other reason last semester had been a powder keg, at least on Rossiu’s end. The nasty things Rossiu had said to Simon, the contempt Rossiu felt every time he had to listen to Simon wax poetic about Nia’s eyes or hair or smile, and how long it took Rossiu to realize what his seemingly directionless anger really was. 

He kept his face perfectly blank, a skill he’d honed last semester and over the summer to be flawless, as Simon slurped up the last of his soup. He had abandoned his spoon in favor of drinking the leftover broth straight from the bowl and Rossiu’s palms itched to run his hands through his friend’s hair, card his fingers through that piece above his ear than never seemed to quite lie flat. 

Rossiu straightened abruptly and snatched the bowl out of Simon’s hands. Simon mock pouted.

“You wouldn’t last very long, I’d bet,” he said, forcing levity into his voice as he turned to rinse the bowl in the sink and grab some NyQuil from the cabinet. “I have an essay to finish, so I need to head to the library. Try not to drown in your own snot while I’m gone.”

He turned back to find Simon striping his shirt over his head, and nearly dropped the glass of water he was holding. With a scowl, he shoved it into Simon’s hands instead, along with the shiny green gel pill. 

“Take that, and get some rest,” he huffed, shoving some things into his messenger bag without really paying attention. He’d finished the essay three days ago, but Simon didn’t need to know that. His roommate’s eyelids were already drooping, anyway, and he didn’t seem to notice.

Simon yawned and pulled the covers up to his chin. “Sir, yes sir,” he said, drifting off almost immediately. “Thanks, buddy, you’re the best.” And then he was asleep.

Rossiu watched his friend for a moment, heart feeling like it was climbing into his throat. “You’re welcome. Simon.”

He shut the door behind him with a soft click.


End file.
